So Tweasure Your Wuv
by ifonly13
Summary: 'And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva.' - The Princess Bride


_**So Tweasure Your Wuv**_

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><p>The sun slants across her eyes, peeking around the edge of the blinds in the bedroom. She rolls over, burying her face into the pillows, hugging them closer to her body in an attempt to block the sunlight out and get back to sleep for another hour or two. Her knees pull up toward her chest, curling up into a ball under the pile of covers. No alarm clock going off at seven and no phone calls about bodies dropping meant she got to sleep in and she was not going to let the morning light ruin that for her.<p>

But the smell of coffee does nothing for her grand plan of sleeping in. It was an unconscious reaction, her blinking against the fabric of the pillowcase and turning her head toward the door to the study. It is open which explained why the scent of the brewing coffee reaches her so easily, tempting her out of bed and into the kitchen.

Kate fights it for another minute, listening to him putter around the kitchen with the clank of pans and the muted click of porcelain plates against the granite countertop. She had never figured Castle for a morning person, seeing him as the one that would rather sleep the day away rather than rise with the sun. She was wrong. The man may stay up until all hours of the night writing or reading over case files with her in bed but he was also the first to get up in the morning. It was unnatural, Kate thought, that he was also so damn cheerful on such little sleep. She knew for a fact that she was a beast in the morning until she got at least one cup of coffee into her system.

Which would be why he was luring her out of bed with the stuff. She glances at the clock on his side of the bed and sees the green lights declaring it as nearly ten. Five years ago, she'd still be in bed, sleeping until noon on the days she got off from work. But five years ago she would also be sleeping in her bed at her old apartment, not at his loft. Her left hand would also be about three carats lighter. And there wouldn't be a baby that she assumed would be perched in his chair at the counter, watching Daddy make breakfast.

With a sigh, she swings her legs from the warmth of the sheets and stretches her arms over her head. "I am so not a morning person," she murmurs to the empty room as she looks for a sweater to ward off the chill. Castle's oversized hoodie from a trip to Washington, DC for a book tour is tossed over the back of the armchair in the corner so she steals it, letting her fingers curl around the too-long sleeves as she pads out into the living room.

"Mommy's awake!" Castle shouts, pointing toward her with the spatula in his hand. "Say 'good morning, Mommy'."

The toddler at the counter tries to twist around in the chair until his eyes find her in the living room. The boy giggles, throwing his arms in the air. "Mama!"

She grins at the single word. He hasn't been a big talker, using words only when he can't get them to understand through his actions and facial expressions. "Hey you," she says, leaning over to nuzzle her nose along his cheek, smiling as he claps his hands on either side of her face to hold her there. "You helping Daddy out?"

He smacks a kiss on her cheek in response, releasing her face on another peal of laughter.

Kate circles the counter, pushing up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Castle's mouth. "Hey you, too." She lets him spread his hand out against the small of her back, pulling her closer against his body.

"Happy anniversary," he whispers against her lips. "Made you coffee."

She sneaks out of his grasp to pick up the mug on one of the hot plates, keeping the liquid warm. "This is why I married you, by the way," she says, leaning against the counter. "Superior coffee beans."

"Glad to know I'm wanted for something." He turns back to the griddle where he has three pancakes cooking. "This is what you have to look forward to, Ian. Women using you to get their favorite beverage."

"Not the only thing I use you for," Kate reminds him, brushing past him just close enough to tease. She shoots a smile over her shoulder as she lifts their son from his high chair. Immediately, his hand is tangled in her hair, pulling at the strands while he rests his head on her shoulder. When she looks back at Castle, the man has his mouth hanging open and the pancakes are burning from the smell. "Watch the food, Castle."

He scrambles to flip the pancakes as Kate laughs, touching her temple to Ian's head of soft brown hair. "Silly Daddy is burning our breakfast."

"Dada," says Ian in a tone that sounds vaguely threatening coming from the one year old.

"Yeah, Ian. Silly Daddy," Kate agrees, pacing around the kitchen as she bounces the boy in her arms. She takes a sip of the coffee, keeping the mug from Ian's grasp as his free hand reaches for it, fingers curling toward the handle of the warm ceramic.

"You know, this is not how I planned our anniversary to go," Castle mutters, transferring the pancakes to a large plate.

"Oh yeah? How'd you plan it?" she asks, attempting to untangle Ian's fingers from her hair.

"Well," he starts, slipping into storytelling mode easily. "First, there'd be some hot you-know-what in bed."

"Hot coffee in bed?" Kate passes him, letting him snag her wrist and press a kiss to the heel of her palm. "Sounds dreamy, Castle. Go on."

He narrows his eyes but continues. "Then we'd make lunch here. Actually, you'd make lunch for me. Woman's work, making sandwiches for us men. Remember that, son," he says, tapping Ian on the head and causing the boy to turn to face Castle with a smile. Probably more from recognition of his father than acknowledgement of the wisdom being passed on to him. "The rest of the afternoon would be spent cuddling on the couch and reminiscing about this day five years ago."

A day where their morning had been spent in the precinct, closing a case from the day before instead of doing typical wedding day things like worrying about the flowers or where the rings were or if the weather was going to hold out for the ceremony.

Kate hums, circling around the counter again. "Sounds nice. What then?" She manages to get Ian's fingers from her hair only to have him attack her neck with little pinches.

"Well, then we'd get dressed up and go out to dinner. Somewhere nice but not over-the-top," he decides, buttering the pancakes. "You don't like over-the-top. Maybe that little Italian place over on the Lower East Side that you pretend to like in passing but I know you love."

He's right. They'd been to the hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant a few times and though she never outright said it, it may be her favorite place to eat in the entire city.

"Then, of course, more hot you-know-what all over the apartment since we would be a little buzzed on too much wine." He places the plate of pancakes on the table, going back into the kitchen for their own plates and silverware. "That would be our anniversary. But we'll have to revise a bit with little James Bond along for the ride here."

Kate glares at him. She still can't believe she let him name their son after Ian Fleming. She had drawn the line, however, at buying him a tiny tuxedo to bring him home from the hospital in and reading him the original Bond books instead of traditional children's picture books. "You keep calling him that and he'll have no idea what his name is," she warns.

"Oh, but how cool would it be to be named James Bond?" he shouts, eyes lighting up with excitement. "We are so naming our next kid James Bond."

"Wow. Daddy's silly and crazy," Kate whispers to Ian, putting her mug down to pull his high chair over to the table.

"About what? The name or another kid?"

Kate swallows the lump in her throat. "Castle," she warns.

"Okay, okay," he says, holding his hands up in defeat. "Conversation for another day."

"When we don't have a toddler already. Let him grow up a little before we think about adding another troublemaker to the family." She settles Ian into the chair, grinning as he slaps his hands on the table with a giggle. Everything seems to be funny to the little guy.

Before she can sit down, Castle pulls her over to the kitchen. He cuts off her protest at leaving Ian unattended with a hot kiss, pushing her up against the counter and threading his hands through her hair. She moans against his mouth, her hands creeping up between them to wrap around his neck, fingers playing with his hair as he tips her head back.

"Castle," she sighs as soon as he moves his lips to her jaw, nipping at her skin. "Baby right there."

"I had to," Castle says against her throat. "It's crazy."

"What's crazy?"

"That even after ten years of knowing you, I still can't stop wanting you." He pulls back enough to meet her eyes, running his thumbs under them. "I wish I had better words, Kate, but I don't. I love you."

"I lo-"

"Wuv you!"

They peek their heads around the pillar blocking Ian from their view and find the boy staring at them. He claps his hands together, grinning. "Wuv you!"

"That's right, Ian," Kate says, taking Castle's hand to tug him back toward the table. She sits next to the boy, letting Castle go and sit across from her, his feet brushing hers under the table. Kate braces a hand on the smooth wood and leans over the plate of pancakes and jug of maple syrup and the bowl of chocolate chips that she knows he'll cover his breakfast with and the spray can of whipped cream and kisses him softly. "Love you both."


End file.
